


drink your heart out

by invertedrainbow



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU, Vampire!Joel, bc why not, we all know he doesn't age at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invertedrainbow/pseuds/invertedrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By then, he looked at Joel curiously and said, “You’re a vampire, aren’t you,” as if he didn’t know the answer to his own question. Not that he sounded like he was asking; he sounded sure of himself, with that knowing smirk but curious eyes. Joel had always hated this about Burnie, but he didn’t even try to brush it off. He bared his fangs for him to see and there was a satisfaction in Burnie’s smile: the bastard was right again.</p><p>a.k.a. the vampire au bc yo joel's a vampire duh</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. of reels and venoms

Joel was a vampire, as clear as day.

Which explains the same facial features for 10 years; the same curves and lines and angles, and all that differed was his facial hair. He had been mixing it up a lot, trying to make it look like he was aging, and it was working, apparently, because only one person knew about his real identity.

Burnie had always been inquisitive and observant, so it was only a matter of time.

By then, he looked Joel curiously and said, “You’re a vampire, aren’t you,” as if he didn’t know the answer to his own question. Not that he sounded like he was asking; he sounded sure of himself, with that knowing smirk but curious eyes. Joel had always hated this about Burnie, but he didn’t even try to brush it off. He bared his fangs for him to see and there was a satisfaction in Burnie’s smile: the bastard was right again.

The questions came pouring in as soon as his fangs retracted. He was extremely careful about not hitting his own lip in the process, for vampire venom had always been a strong drug, and for someone who lived for centuries, his was aged and tested. Power did come with a price, and he was careful not to be drunk over it.

Weak against sunlight? “Are you kidding me? We go swimming a lot in college.”

Garlic? “Oh dear.”

Silver? He raised his wrist in view, where a thin line of metal was seen.

Stake at your heart? “That would actually probably kill me, since, you know, heart.” How does that work?  “I actually have no idea. Wait. Why are you asking this. Burns, are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Hey, I need to debunk these myths before getting into your affairs,” Burnie was saying then, his hand reaching for his neck, looking for his puncture wounds. “Not in the neck?”

“Shoulder,” Joel smiled. “I was in a relationship with my turner then. He wasn’t keen for public display, since he didn’t want me to, you know, die in flames. Angry mobs, man.” He watched as Burnie slipped his hand in Joel’s shirt to feel the wounds on his shoulder, but Joel stopped him by grabbing his wrist. “Burnie.”

“Joel,” He said playfully. “Lemme see.”

“God, if you wanted me off this shirt, you could have just asked.”

—

It went on for months.

They got closer than normal because of the secret, and in a drunken daze Burnie ended up blurting out that he had always been interested in Joel for some reason, and it was probably because of the vampire not-so-secret-to-him-now. Joel wanted to dismiss it as nothing but he couldn’t; Burnie was bright and observant and inquisitive, and his genuine interest over his kind is so endearing, he sort of wants to just show him what he could do and not do.

(Could do: him. Could not do: nothing.)

It didn’t change the fact that Joel was interested on someone after, what? A hundred years or so? He never turned anyone in his vampire lifetime nor did he plan to, because “baby” vampires were dumb and took a lot of time to train. They were predatorily active for the wrong reasons, and he wasn’t keen on having a blood bond on some stranger that he barely knew.

It was a thing. People would pay vampires just to be one without thinking about the connection between him and his turn-ee, and he had heard about the news of failed vampires and the dangers of them in general. There was this council of vampires, and they handle the issues of their kind as they lived in prosperity over the years. Joel’s pretty sure they were the ones who handled the dumb failed baby vampires, and he promised not to contribute to that baby boom  _ever_.

But here comes Burnie.

As far as he could tell, he was in a relationship-sort-of-oh-my-god-it’s-all-so-confusing-now-do-you-even-want-me with Burnie but he’s not sure if he could handle getting in a relationship with someone who will be living for a long, long time. (Decades? Centuries? Milleniums?)

So he decided to ask.

“Heyman, are you asking me out?”

What? God,  _this idiot_.

(But he was? Sort of? He’s interested but he didn’t want the attachment? Damnit.)

“At least sort this out, you fucking idiot,” Joel rolled his eyes. “You’re definitely flirting.”

And Burnie was running a thumb over his lips before pulling him in a kiss, soft at first, then adequate amount of tongue and teeth and nibbling and  _oh god_  Joel had to focus on not making his fangs come out because damn, Burnie smelled too good to be true.

He rarely did this; rarely had the urge to bite people just because their blood smelled good, but here came Burnie.

To be fair, he rarely did shit before Burnie. Good influence or bad influence, didn’t matter because Joel wanted him against the wall, drained and empty, but that can’t happen without him turning Burnie.

And if baby vampires were annoying, what more if Burnie was one?

(When he’s alone, he could let himself think about it. It was unfair to turn Burnie without consent just because he wanted him there forever—

Oh no.)

—

He woke up with this bad hangover and decided to stay at home because if he heard even the slightest noise, he was ready to fucking drain anyone’s blood out.

As he trashed under his duvet, he tried recalling what happened the previous night. He remembered Burnie dragging his ass out for drinks, and he recalled somebody bringing Tequila and passing shots around (probably Burnie), and then there were body shots in the picture and Blaine was loved by everyone, then soon enough people were making out so he figured, why the fuck not?

Then it stops there. The reel ran out and he’s being fed with a blank, black tape.

He felt nervous all of a sudden, knowing that there was more in the picture than he was fed, but he can’t recall, and his head was killing him too much. When he tried hoisting himself up, the pain got worse tenfold and he ended curling up in bed, trying to ignore the pain.

(He dreamt for the first time in years, of red and violet and pain and arousal, and he woke up in cold sweat bathing his body, hands clammy and boner definitely rising.)

—

He went to work the next day feeling infinitely better, having been able to drink his share of blood from his secret blood bank at home. The bags under his eyes were darker now, though; after that dream, he couldn’t sleep and he felt a fixture in his stomach that told him that something was wrong, so he decided to feed his fill before he could do anything rash.

He passed by Burnie’s office out of routine.

“Hey,” He greeted as he leaned over to kiss him, but Burnie backed away at the last second, looking awfully panicked. “Burnie?”

“I really have no time, I have to give this to Gus,” Burnie stepped off his seat and rushed past him, and if Joel’s mind thought of it as nothing, his stomach begged to differ.

It went on for the rest of the day, and Joel was convinced that Burnie was avoiding him, but they were able to hold a conversation longer than five seconds when they were eating lunch across each other. Joel asked about last night, and Burnie laughed.

“Somebody,” He pointed at himself, “popped out the Tequila then the next thing I know I was doing body shots from Blaine.” Before Joel could react, Burnie added, “You did some too. Three, I think? It was so fucking lewd. Blaine had to admit later that night that he got a semi-boner from it.”

Joel looked horrified, and as if on cue, Blaine stepped in the kitchen with a blush. Burnie laughed hard, throwing his head back, and somehow, Joel found himself staring at Burnie’s neck.

The color of his skin there was uneven.

When he tried reaching for it from across the counter, Burnie almost fell from his seat from backing away.

—

The thing was, Joel trusted Burnie enough to wait for him to tell what the fuck was up.

By then Burnie looked the same but acted crankier, eating and drinking so little, and somehow keeping to himself, contrary to what he did everyday. He skipped the podcast that week because he “wasn’t feeling well” and ended up leaving the office early. Joel’s gut told him to follow him home, so he did.

Burnie kept the spare key at the same place, so getting in was a breeze. He didn’t expect what he saw inside his house, though.

The house was trashed. There were feathers scattered all over the place from the couch pillows that looked like it was torn apart by bare teeth. There’s a distinct smell of blood, not Burnie’s, he carefully noted, and there was a trail of it leading upstairs. He could hear things getting thrown off, so he very silently walked up to Burnie’s room (which, he had to admit, was funny because it was almost like breathing air at this point; he knew the way too well).

If there was something he should have learned in movies, it’s that doors creak when you open them slowly.

Burnie was standing in the middle of his room, his breathing ragged and eyes bloodshot. He was sweating and panting, eye’s unfocused, so when Joel walked in, he looked extremely surprised. He managed to say a weak “leave” before Joel grabbed on to his wrist, and as if it were scalding water, he let go immediately.

Except Burnie wasn’t hot. On the contrary, he was really cold. Now that Joel’s staring carefully, Burnie looked pale.

Then it hit him. He closed their distance with a long stride and he rubbed a spot on Burnie’s neck before he could do anything about it. There were two puncture holes, semi-healed but still pink from the recent activity. Joel growled, the coil in his stomach finally understood.

“How did this happen?”

“You,” Burnie flinched when Joel pressed on one of the wounds with his thumb, and he leaned to kiss it softly. “ _ah,_  you were drunk, and everyone passed out in the living room—“

“I did this?”

“You don’t remember?” There was disbelief in his tone, wanting not to belief the facts presented to him. Burnie looked hurt more than anything, and he was stepping back, but Joel’s grip on his wrist was so tight he knew it would bruise.

“I did this,” Joel closed his eyes tight and dropped his hands to his sides, backing away slowly. “I promised I’d never—“

The reel continued then.

They were on the couch drinking something lighter – Beer? Alcomix? He doesn’t remember now – when Burnie tugged on to his shirt and cocked his head, pointing to the stairs. Joel let out a defeated laugh, knowing that he was beyond drunk and walking would be a fucking nightmare. They barely made it upstairs with the way Joel was stumbling over his own legs, and Burnie could only help as much, since he’s drunk off his ass too.

“You Catbug yet, Burns?” Joel cooed, and Burnie replied, “Don’t make me want to drop your sorry ass here, Heyman.”

When they reached Burnie’s bed, they only laid next to each other with the every intent to sleep it off, knowing the impending hangover that dawned before them. It was 3 in the morning and Joel’s head was starting to kill him because of the lack of alcohol in his mouth, but his system was drowning in it that he decided against grabbing another bottle.

Besides, he was upstairs already. He sighed.

“I wish we could be together like this forever,” Burnie whispered, not breaking his eye contact on the ceiling.

“We could,” Joel said absentmindedly. His brain was swimming in his own vomit at this point, and the filter between his brain and mouth was long gone. He was saying absolute truths, even though sober Joel would will against it as long as he could. They could be together forever, indeed. There was a way for eternity, and Joel only wanted Burnie to tell it himself.

“Will you turn me?”

Joel turned his face to him and stared at him for a long while before asking, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” Burnie answered, because as much as he was living, he was also dying. Joel knew that and he decided not to think about it as much. “Yes,” he said again, but this time he hoisted himself up with an arm so he could lean down and kiss Joel, wanting to sugar-coat the deal with something he could give him forever. If Joel allowed it.

“I’m so drunk,” Joel groaned. “I might not remember this.”

“Please do,” Burnie pleaded. “Or as your boss, I command you to.”

“Don’t ask for the impossible. You know I could only do so much.”

“But you’re Joel Heyman,” Burnie grinned. He rested his head against Joel’s shoulder and breathed in. “Please remember.”

“Okay,” Joel said, mostly to himself, when he pushed himself up. “Okay,” he repeated, wrapping his fingers around Burnie’s neck before leaning in, his fangs out and brushing against the soft skin. Burnie did his part and gave him enough room, cocking his head to the opposite direction. “I’ll miss your warmth.”

It was short but painful: Joel bit him deep for the venom to reach his arteries, and the faster it travelled, the faster this was done with. Burnie was gripping on to his bicep tight, trying not to make a deal out of the pain but soon it was too much for him to bear and he was letting out muffled screams. Joel made soothing circles on his hip as an apology, and when he felt Burnie’s warmth drain out of him, he retracted from Burnie.

He willed against not tasting Burnie’s blood, but it was on his thick in his mouth and it tasted distinctly like cherries, juicy and oozing of flavour. He swallowed heavily before wiping the mess on his mouth with a handkerchief, throwing it at a random direction afterwards. The venom was pooling at the puncture holes and Burnie was already asleep.

Joel walked home that morning absentmindedly and apparently made it home with no recollection of how.

The reel ended.


	2. of papercuts and arteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he could stand up to grab something to eat, Burnie entered his office, closing the door behind him. He walked towards his desk in silence, passing the papers in his hands with not much as a look. Joel planned on grabbing his hand before he could leave, but as he put down the stack, he felt a prickling pain on his finger, and Burnie froze.
> 
> Paper cut.

Burnie was mad at Joel for days.

Joel tried to reach out to him as much as he could, knowing Burnie’s limit ultimately: there was a rule in turning people, and as much as he tried to abide by it, his turn-ee was ignoring the fuck out of him, so any form of help he could provide was disregarded. He could see it clearly: Burnie hasn’t had blood since the turning, and in every day that passed, the crankier he got.

Baby vampires are required to feed at least daily, just for them to get used to the rush that blood brings to them, and it’s the job of turners to feed them regularly. The council had decided this law years ago, having lost vast numbers of their brethren to the mobs in the 18th century.

Joel’s turner was one of them.

Joel thought it was love when he asked him to make him one of them. He thought it was love, how he acted his way through it, trying to look pleased when his turner took his sweet time on turning him, tongue refusing to miss any drop of blood from him. The venom travelled slow, and Joel thought it was love, because he wanted it to last, wanted for it to be memorable. He thought it was love when he felt drained on that bed, watching as his turner wiped his mouth with his arm.

He knew it wasn’t love when they burned him alive, and all his turner screamed was, “He is one, as well!” No one believed him.

He knew Burnie would crack sooner or later, but it was dangerous for him to be in the office for most of his time. Their friends know nothing about their situation, though they are noticing Burnie’s sudden moodswings.

Adam came knocking on his door days after the incident, asking, “Okay Joel, what the fuck did you do?”

“Wh—Adam? What?”

Adam sat on the vacant seat beside him, crossing his arms. “Burnie has been stressing us out for days! He’s worse than Gus during RTX, Jesus Christ.”

“And why is this my fault?” Joel asked, raising a brow at him as he continued with his typing.

“Who the fuck has the audacity to even fight with him, huh? Joel, this whole set-up with Burnie and you is so confusing and we try to understand it as much as possible, but if you fucking drag us along on your fights, I’m gonna have to punch you.”

Joel stopped and sighed. “We aren’t fighting, okay? Fuck, he’s not even talking to me.”

Adam shrugged and headed straight to the door. “Fix this, Heyman.”

—

The day after that, he instructed Gus to make Burnie bring documents to him instead of Blaine. (The guy was feeling shy around him anyway, after the body shots thing.) Gus looked at him like he was crazy, but nodded anyway, not wanting to hear more about their issues. Joel smiled in thanks, and Gus gave him the finger.

His day was uneventful, since he spent most of his morning waiting for Burnie and the documents he needed for work. When lunch rolled around with no sight of Burnie, he started to get pissed.

Before he could stand up to grab something to eat, Burnie entered his office, closing the door behind him. He walked towards his desk in silence, passing the papers in his hands with not much as a look. Joel planned on grabbing his hand before he could leave, but as he put down the stack, he felt a prickling pain on his finger, and Burnie froze.

Paper cut.

He watched as the speck of blood pooled on his finger, and before he could wipe it off, Burnie was on his lap, bringing the finger on his mouth and licking it from the tip down to the knuckle. His fangs were bared for the world to see now, and Joel was pulling him closer, his free hand trailing down his back.

“Careful,” Joel groaned when Burnie started nibbling on his two fingers. “We’re at work.” Burnie only moaned, rolling his hips down to reiterate his lack of fucks. “Burnie.”

“Fuck you,” Burnie growled. “I feel like I’m on fire…”

“You can’t go out of my office like you’ve been fucked,” Joel chuckled. His hand is pressing on the bite wounds now, his thumb rubbing onto it softly. “Focus,” he instructed in a whisper, low and soothing. “Retract your fangs.”

With the way Burnie’s sucking onto his fingers, Joel knew it would take him more than a minute, but he had faith on him. “Focus,” He whispered again, and Burnie closed his eyes to do so. “You’ll have me later on, but for now, focus.”

“Promise,” Burnie mumbled against his cheek, and the lack of fangs made Joel smile. “You have to keep it this time.”

“Okay,” Joel said before pulling him in a kiss, tasting his own blood on Burnie’s tongue. It tasted the same as always, and he found it fascinating how it never changed even after he was turned. Maybe it was a thing. He’s not even sure now. He shouldn’t even thinking about it with Burnie nibbling on his lower lip, careful not to draw blood from it, so the groan from Joel was inevitable. Burnie grinned. “I promise, now get off my lap and shoo.”

“Joel, you wound me,” Burnie said with a fake hurt expression. “Don’t you want me?”

“Always, but you won’t see me climbing your lap during lunch break,” Joel said with a smirk.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, Heyman. I know your kinks well.”

“Who’s the creepier between the two of us, then?”

“That would be you, my lovely assistant, for wanting bloodplay so much.”

“Oh, Burnie, we both know who wants it more  _now_  more than anything,” Joel brings up his hand in view and rubs his fingers with his thumb. “Or should I prove my point?”

Burnie frowned. “Fuck you.”

“I’ll try getting home early, babe. Prep for me, will ya?”

—

The keyword was “try”.

But due to Burnie’s late delivery of the papers for work, Gus practically forbid him to leave the office without getting them all done. It was way past 8 when he finished, three hours later than usual, and by then, he was pretty sure Burnie would kill him by the time he set foot on his house.

The lights were all off when he entered, and knowing that a bloodlusting vampire was in the premises just made him more cautious than normal. His eyes took their swell time on adjusting in the dark, and seeing that Burnie was nowhere in the first floor, he ascended the stairs silently.

“Joel?”

Well, fuck being silent then. He sighed and went straight to the bedroom, where Burnie was sitting on the edge of the bed calmly, but his irises tainted red.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Gus was a fucking asshole about wo—“

“C’mere.”

He should be nervous with the way Burnie’s voice dipped, but he knew indulging to his needs was better than taking his blood by force, so he scurried over and sat beside him. Burnie was surprisingly gentle when he leaned in to kiss him, relief flooding his senses when Burnie relaxed against him.

“Can I?” Burnie asked, his fangs out now, brushing against neck. “Please, Joel,  _please_ …”

“Down,” Joel instructed, and Burnie could only groan but did anyway, settling between Joel’s legs. “Help me out of my pants.”

“Wha—“

“Do it.”

It took a swift motion with two pairs of hands working on it, but soon Joel was sitting on the edge of the bed in his underwear and he pointed on the inside of his thigh. “Here,” He said softly. “The femoral artery runs here.” He used his power to elongate his nails and made a line on his thigh, and once the scent of his blood hit Burnie’s nose, Joel had to brace himself from being pinned down.

His hand was behind him hoisting him up, and the other is on Burnie’s hair, running his fingers against his scalp. Burnie was moaning against his thigh, the vibration going directly to his dick, and, well… Of course he knew this was coming. His erection was pressed on Burnie’s cheek but he didn’t seem to mind; the immediate loss of his blood was making his legs weak, but the image of his blood running down Burnie’s lips and chin gave him more than enough motivation to push through this.

When the rush of blood got weaker and weaker, Burnie transferred to the other thigh, licking the spot first before diving in. Joel could feel Burnie biting too deep, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with the way Burnie was thumbing against his clothed erection. He was losing blood in an alarming rate, and he knew Burnie’s self-control was jack shit now, so he tipped Burnie’s chin from his thigh and pressed a soft kiss on his bloodied lips, whispering, “Don’t kill me, Burns…”

“Am I drinking too much…?” Burnie asked, biting his lower lip self-consciously.

“I should’ve explained that you needed this days ago, but it’s okay,” Joel said reassuringly, his tone tired but soft. “Are you sated?”

“I want more,” Burnie admitted shyly. “But I’m fine now.”

“Let me rest then we’ll skip work together,” Joel assured with a kiss, his hands cupping Burnie’s cheeks now, kissing from his lips down to his neck. “Do you need anything else?”

“Looks like  _you_  do,” Burnie laughed as he pressed his own erection on Joel’s. “We both do.”

“Can’t do it tonight,” Joel groaned finally, collapsing on the bed. Burnie towered over him immediately and he grinned. “Can you?”

“Will you bleed to death?” He asked, pointing at his thighs.

“I’ll be fine,” He assured again. “Just—go slow. I can’t feel my legs.”

“Joel,” Burnie warned.

“Burnie, shut up and fuck me,” He pointed at the drawers. “First drawer on the left.”

“If you die, don’t blame me.”

“I refuse to believe you’ll rock my world in ways I can never imagine, but you can  _try_.”

—

Joel hated the fact that Burnie didn’t have to try.

His slick fingers were prying him open and making him used to the sensation; he had fingered himself ages ago but never really found what was appealing with it, but with Burnie reaching deeper and supposedly finding his prostrate, it felt different. Better. Burnie took his time as promised, knowing that Joel was weak as dicks, and thoroughly enjoyed himself. He even tried licking the hole, prodding it with his tongue, and Joel could only writhe against it, groaning out profanities.

Burnie was generous enough to take Joel’s cock in his mouth, managing to take it whole in one try, then licking the underside from root to tip. There was come down the slit and Burnie was licking it off, his tongue going around the head with ease. He went down to the balls quickly, letting his hand finish off the job as he took it on is mouth, his other hand busy with Joel’s hole.

Not weak enough to thrust against Burnie’s fingers, of course; after rocking against it, Burnie is finally hitting his sweet spot and Joel could only babble on and on about wanting it –  _Burns I swear to god if you don’t fucking do it right now I will run a stake at your heart and have a feast with your blood_  –; Burnie laughed at him as he slicked his cock and positioned himself, teasing the entrance the way Joel always hated.

He thrust it in slow, letting him get used with the head first, then slowly sinking with the rest of his length. With one of Joel’s leg hanging on Burnie’s shoulder, he managed to push in deeper, giving Joel a long kiss, but when Joel started groaning against the kiss, he knew he was hitting it on ever thrust. It helped that Joel was rutting his ass back on every thrust, making Burnie delirious with the power over his turner.

He felt connected in many ways, as a friend, as a lover, and as a partner, but this raw energy he was feeling made him drunk with the possibilities. He was a man who lusted over power over anything, and with the source of his wanton under him, he could feel himself losing control. His thrusts were speeding up, and Joel’s groans were starting to sound more from discomfort.

But when Joel’s eyes widened in – horror? disgust?—he felt a punch in his gut.

“Focus,” Joel whispered between their kiss, and Burnie was mouthing apologies. “It’s okay, just…” He could feel how close he was, pumping his cock in sync with the thrusts. “Fuck…!”

And he was coming all over his own stomach and chest, almost hitting himself on the face in the process, and it didn’t take long for Burnie to come afterwards, filling him in with so much that it dribbled down the sheets even before he could pull out. Joel looked even more tired now, but happy, and Burnie could only kiss him again to make it all better.

“What happened?” Burnie asked.

“Your eyes,” Joel mumbled sleepily. “They were red.”

“Is that bad?”

“Bloodlust. Don’t mind it all that much.”

“Joel,” Burnie prodded on, and Joel sighed.

“I told you,” He booped Burnie’s nose and laughed. “Focus.”

“But I was focusing!” Burnie said, panicking now. “Too much, I think,” He added when he noticed the bruises around Joel’s hip.

“You’re not sated yet, it seems,” Joel was so close to sleeping, and he already managed to lock them together in a tight cuddle. “Tomorrow, you drink again. Let me rest first.”

“Hey,” Burnie whispered, but Joel was already near asleep, eyes heavy and drooping. The blood on his thighs already dried up, and Burnie had to tear his gaze away to control himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” he hushed with a smile. “You have forever to learn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i probably should have noted that the explicit part is in the second chapter.... i am so sorry you guys

**Author's Note:**

> this is old and i'm still gathering courage to transfer some of the fics i have from tumblr
> 
> title is from skree so thanks again bb :D


End file.
